


Not Ideal, But Enough For Now

by zombiesbecrazy



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Jason tries to be a good brother, New 52, he's doing ok, why is no one looking after damian when bruce has amnesia?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiesbecrazy/pseuds/zombiesbecrazy
Summary: Jason shook his head as he rode through the gates of the manor, hands tightening around the handles as a small outlet for his anger.The kid was going to get himself killed. Again. And nobody seemed to care about it.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 168





	Not Ideal, But Enough For Now

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Long time, no see :)
> 
> Set during New 52 when Bruce had amnesia and Dick was "dead", and Damian was seemingly just running around Gotham.

Jason shook his head as he rode through the gates of the manor, hands tightening around the handles of his bike as a small outlet for his anger. 

The kid was going to get himself killed. Again. And nobody seemed to care about it.

Jason was pissed. Pissed at Bruce for having amnesia like he was a cheesy soap opera character. At Dick for being such an absolute dick and getting himself killed in a stupidly sacrificial way. And unfortunately he was also pissed at Alfred for even allowing this whole current situation to have happened, because he was the only real adult out of all of them and it was usually his job to make sure that all of them still had pulses. It was hard to stay mad at Alfred though because it really wasn't his fault either. He probably was just doing his best with the mess that had been left behind. Alfred may be a magical wizard of a being and one of the most important people in his life, but even Jason could admit that he wasn’t infallible. 

Most of all, Jason was pissed at himself. It had been months since Bruce’s stand off with the Joker, the one that had left him without his memories and had started him on his new path of just being a regular guy, and Jason had only just now figured out that Damian was on his own, without anyone looking after him, running around on the streets of Gotham without a mentor or a friend or a guardian.

Without Bruce or Dick in his life. Damian was alone.

He can’t believe that he hadn’t even thought about it until last night, when he had seen Robin on patrol. It didn’t even click until after he had got home and was lying in bed and afterwards he couldn’t even think of sleeping, anxiety wheels running at top speed through his thoughts.

Not long ago, he wouldn’t have cared. Right now though, he felt awful.

He screeched his bike to a stop just before he hit the manicured lawn and ran up to the little used side door of the manor, bursting into Alfred’s private apartment, already part way through his rant that he had been practicing the whole ride over. Alfred didn’t react at all to the intrusion, had just stayed seated at the counter, stirring his tea and ignoring the outburst.

“What are the rules to my home, Jason?” Alfred didn’t even look up, didn’t even raise his voice at the irate intruder into his home. He just sat there, pretending like Jason was still his thirteen year old self and had come in to complain about something Bruce had done and he had deemed unfair, stirring his spoon and clinking the edges of the cup in what could only be described a passive aggressive way.

Jason froze, in the spot and mid rant, and immediately walked back out the door and stared up at the sky, squinting against the midday sun. It was a nice day; cool, but minimal breeze, and the birds were even singing like it was some sort of damn fairytale and Jason had just rushed at Alfred like a child having a temper tantrum. It was embarrassing, what he had just done, and he felt like he was about an inch tall already and now he just felt worse. He knew better than this. There were so few firm rules in the Wayne home, and he had just broken one of the top three, one of the ones that was most ingrained in all of them, without a thought.

He took a few calming breaths, to clear some of his anger at the situation and the shame that was there from his own actions, and knocked on the door. 

Alfred opened the door just as he always did, no sign of their previous meeting only minutes before. “Jason, what a nice surprise. Would you like to come in?”

Jason stepped out of his shoes, and hesitated in the doorway, embarrassed by his mistake and not knowing how to move past it. Alfred still ignored him for the most part, but poured a second cup of tea on his counter and gestured with his missing hand at a stool as invitation. Jason sat down and grasped the warm cup in his hands. He opened his mouth a few times, but no words came out, not really knowing where to start, which was unusual between himself in Alfred. Alfred sat down beside him, lips pressed together firmly, but his eyes were gentle. He knew the topic already from Jason’s original dramatic entrance. "Would we like to try this again?" Jason blushed, still ashamed of his first debacle.

"I'm sorry, Alfred. I didn't..." Jason paused, trying to think of what he was actually apologizing for. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. I'm angry and I barged in here uninvited when I know that I shouldn't have and took it out on you and you don't deserve that after everything."

"Apology accepted, but I think you are more upset than angry, because I am as well, but I'm trying to handle the situation the best that I can think of," said Alfred as he gently clasped his hand to Jason's shoulder for a few moments before returning to his drink. “We can certainly talk about it, but I do ask that you refrain from raising your voice more than you already have. Master Bruce is home.” Bruce who was an empty shell, who knew nothing of Jason or the rest of them. Who knew nothing of Damian, as far as Jason was aware. 

“We need to talk about Damian,” said Jason carefully, trying to sort through his thoughts more rationally now that embarrassment had burst some of his rage of the situation. “I saw Robin in the Narrows last night.”

“I am aware. I saw your trackers intercept.” 

“Is he living here?”

Alfred shook his head. “He has been staying in the penthouse.”

“Alone.”

“He is living unsupervised,” agreed Alfred. “He and I made an arrangement, and there are rules that we both have to adhere to. With his father in his current position, he was uncomfortable remaining in the manor.”

“I assume he said _that_ Bruce isn’t his father.”

“It was along those lines, though much more petulantly toned. He didn’t feel comfortable staying here, however, he wanted to remain in Gotham and continue in his duties as Robin.” 

Jason supposed that Damian had other options, though none of them were particularly great ones. “He’s a child, Alfred. He shouldn’t be allowed to make that decision on his own.”

“He is a child that would simply run away if I were to try and force him to remain somewhere he does not wish to be. He is not the first headstrong boy with the resources and knowledge to disappear whenever he wishes that I’ve had under my care.” Jason’s grasp on the cup faltered, spilling a little down his chin, and Alfred pushed the napkin holder in his direction across the table and gave him a moment to recover. “You are right though. It isn’t ideal, but we are making it work the best that we can.”

“What are the rules he has to stick to?”

“He has to keep up on his homeschooling routine, or he will have to start attending in person classes. He sends me his assignments twice a week so that I can make sure that he is on top of it. I make sure that his refrigerator and pantry are stocked and he has nutritious meals pre made and available, and in exchange he keeps the penthouse tidy, and he does his own laundry. We have three scheduled meals a week together that are mandatory, but he is able, and encouraged, to call me whenever he chooses and I will come. He has done that several times, mostly just for a visit or a chat. When he is out at Robin, he must wear a tracker at all times and I have to be online as support in the Cave. He is also not permitted to engage with a Class B rogue or higher without reinforcements. Any injuries have to be treated by either myself or Doctor Tompkins. Tech repairs are going directly to Lucius.”

“And you expect him to follow those?” Jason didn't know Damian exceptionally well, but the third part information from Tim made it seem like Damian didn't listen to anyone except Dick, and even that only had about a 70% success rate on a good day.

“It’s been two months and he hasn’t faltered yet. He is actually doing a much better job at sticking to our arrangement than I would have thought. Perhaps staying in the penthouse is having a good influence on him,” mused Alfred, “as he’s said that it has always felt more like home to him than the manor. This is a way for him to pay tribute to both his father and his Batman.”

“By Batman, you mean Dick,” said Jason, more to himself than to Alfred. It wasn’t a secret, though it was mostly unspoken that Bruce wasn’t the person that Damian thought of when he spoke of Batman. “I want to help keep an eye on him. Can you call me if he needs anything? I can be his… backup.” It was weird, describing himself as the backup to an eleven year old who somehow had finagled his way into being an unofficial emancipated minor in the most crime riddled city in America.

"I appreciate it, and while he won't say it, I'm sure he will as well," said Alfred. "We're all just doing our best, Jason. Sometimes it isn't enough, but all we can do is try and muddle through."

Jason stayed to finish his tea with Alfred, washing his dishes before he got back on his bike and headed towards the city as it started to get dark. There was a very large part of him that was still angry at himself for not even thinking about this until he had seen Robin yesterday breaking up a robbery at a bodega. Until he had been caught staring up at the ceiling in the middle of the night unable to think of anything else, Jason had actually been a little proud of himself and all the little inroads he had been making with the family that he had left. After Dick and Bruce, he had gone out of his way to mend fences with Tim and try to give each other the last thread of family that they both had left. They had brunch weekly. They teamed up on each others cases regularly. Tim had needed a hand repairing the Redbird and Jason had volunteered, and then Jason had gone out of town for a week and had Tim come over to water his very finicky plants. 

They were getting along. They might not be brothers yet, but they were at least friends. Or at the very least, friendly.

Except he had entirely forgotten that Damian existed. That he had an entire other brother who could need some help.

Jason could help with that, even if Damian didn’t want him to.

***

Jason knew that Damian knew that he was following him, but Damian was also refusing to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence.

Red Hood had been following Robin all week. He had been keeping watch from the rooftops, but didn’t interfere. Damian, from what Jason had been able to see, had been living up to the arrangement that he had with Alfred. On Friday night, Jason had seen him observe Riddler setting up a trap, and instead of rushing in head first, he had called in to Alfred to report it and Alfred had secretly linked Jason into the conversation to overhear the conversation. Damian hadn’t argued with Alfred’s decision to reassign Tim and Barbara to the location and divert Robin to a different part of the city to patrol; he had simply agreed and continued on his new route.

Jason was proud of the kid, and smiled at the thought of how Dick would have reacted to see his Robin in action.

It was mostly quiet on patrol tonight. Damian had stopped some pickpockets in the entertainment district earlier when the shows were letting out, but other than that, there wasn’t much to report and the police scanner chatter was minimal. Some nights were just calm like that. Damian was just starting to turn back towards the penthouse, a sign that he was calling it a night, when he came across eight men breaking into an electronics store, pulling out some televisions and stereos without much care about how much noise they were making. Jason watched with curiosity for a few minutes as Damian fought off the guys before making the executive decision that eight on one wasn’t exactly fair odds, no matter how skilled the one was. He dropped to the street and threw the man closest to Damian across the alley. 

He had spent so much time watching this week that he was just itching for some action, even some low skill idiots such as these was enough.

Damian didn’t even turn his head in his direction at the sound of his joining the fight, instead sweeping out his leg to knock down one of the other assailants. “Your assistance is not required, Hood.” He kicked the prone man in the ribs, a satisfying _oof_ coming from the thug. Most of the other men dropped the goods that they had grabbed, jumped into a nearby van and took off, not wanting to deal with two vigilantes if they didn’t have to. Clearly amateurs and not hired help from a big league operation. Jason pulled out a small gun from a pocket of his jacket and fired a tracker onto the back of the van’s bumper, and sent the coordinates to Gordon. 

Gordon might be a strange pick for Gotham’s new Batman, but he would track down the van and any stolen merch. Or at least get some patrolmen on the case.

Only one of the robbers were still fighting and horizontal, and even he was trying to back up and get out of the way, eyes darting to the street where the van had disappeared. Jason’s fist made contact with the goon’s nose with a satisfying crack and he dropped to the ground, unconscious. Damian stepped up beside him, folding his arms and clicked his tongue in annoyance for Jason taking out the last guy. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You are a strong and independent Robin who doesn’t need any help. Sing me a new tune that isn’t the fifth generation cover of an oldie, squirt.” Jason bent down and tied the man’s wrists, and then gave him his own kick to the ribs, because Damian had made it look like fun when he did it to the other guy. Turned out, it was. “I just didn’t want to let you hog all the fun. I needed the workout.”

“You do. Your form is rusty. It’s an embarrassment to say we were trained by the same people.” Damian glared at Jason. To anyone else, it probably would have seemed intimidating, but Jason had to hold back his laughter. He had watched Damian pet two cats and give out three dog treats that night and that glare didn’t hold much weight anymore. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I know. New Jersey doesn’t have a law about how old you have to be to stay home alone.” Damian had a roof over his head, and someone looking after him, even if it was from a distance. Not ideal, but it was still better than Jason’s own situation had been at that age. 

And now he had more than one person looking out for him, whether he wanted it or not.

“Even if there were, I would like it noted that we aren’t home. I’m fine.”

Yes, he was fine, but Jason wanted him to be better than fine. Fine didn’t have to be the be all and end all. 

Fine wasn’t enough.

Jason wondered when he had started caring again and then decided that was a rabbit hole he didn’t really want to fall down. All that mattered was that he did.

“Do you need a ride home? My bike is around the corner and it’s getting late.” Damian tilted his head, but then nodded and followed Jason to his bike. Helmets on, Jason mounted his bike, felt Damian climb on behind him, hold on around his waist and then yawn against his back. He knew that feeling; the satisfying exhaustion that only a night of patrol could bring that you only felt when you were safely on your way back home. 

It was the way he always felt when he got in the Batmobile, dozing off on their way back to the Cave with Bruce at the wheel.

Damian tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m staying in the Penthouse, but you already knew that. I’ve seen you watching me.”

“And I saw you see me watching you. Penny One also told me where you were. I was worried about you, Kid.” Jason felt Damian’s muscles tense behind him. Jason started the bike and started talking through the helmet mics as he drove off. “Look, I just want to make sure that you are okay. With Bruce all blank slate and Dick gone, someone needs to make sure that you are alive. I learned the hard way to ask for help. I want you to know that I’m here if you need me.”

“I just wish to be left alone,” said Damian eventually, hushed even with the audio going directly into Jason’s ears. “I do check in with Pennyworth daily. He disapproves, but is respecting my boundaries. He keeps filling my refrigerator when I’m not home. He’s treating me like a grouchy cat.”

It was a pretty apt description, but Jason also knew that not all cats like that were feral. Some were just prickly, and some had been hurt. Some had lost people dear to them and were just hissing and scratching from letting others get close to them, so they wouldn’t get hurt again.

Sometimes the grouchy cats still deserved a little kindness in order for them to heal just the smallest amount. 

“Alright, but if you decide that you don’t want to be alone, you know where my place is. I have full bookshelves, and a Playstation at your disposal. And Tim and I have brunch on Tuesday’s at his place if you ever want some waffles that don’t taste like paste, because we all know that Alfred only has one flaw, and it's his waffles.”

“Does this mean that you are going to stop lurking in the shadows and following me around?”

“Of course not. Robin needs a Batman, and unless you want to start following Gordon around, I’m the closest thing you’ve got.”

“I was trained by the League of Assassins and Batman and Nightwing. I’m perfectly fine.”

There was that word again. _Fine_. Jason was starting to hate it. 

“Sure, but I’m already pissed that you died in the uniform once in an attempt to steal my thunder. I’m not letting you pull that garbage twice.” Damian nodded against his back as Jason pulled into the entrance to the Bunker, parking with a screech beside an out of commission Batmobile, with red tinted windows and a sleeker design than Bruce’s car models ever had. “You have more than one brother, Damian,” Jason finally said softly, unable to break his gaze away from the car. “I’ve never been a good one, but I am trying. Tim’s been the guinea pig and I think I’ve been doing pretty alright. I’m bound to be better at it with you.”

“Drake doesn’t like me,” muttered Damian, climbing off the biking and handing Jason back the helmet before peeling off his domino mask, suddenly looking years younger than he had before, more kitten than cat. “I don’t think he’d welcome me into his home with open arms.”

“I’ll bully him into behaving, but you have to play nice too. No maiming or murder at Tuesday brunches. I can keep the peace. I’m the big brother now.” Jason swallowed the lump in his throat, because this was different than trying to mend the fences with Tim. This was something else entirely and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it, but Dick had left a large hole and there was no one else around to try and, not fill it, but at least try to heal the gap the smallest amount. “It’s my job.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed, crinkles forming between his brows as he stared at Jason, carefully observing him for a few moments, before nodding sharply and turning on his heel, walking towards the computer to log his night's work. “Tuesday,” said Damian as he sank into the chair, not looking back at Jason, dismissal clear in the room. “I will see you then.”

It wasn’t ideal, but it was enough.


End file.
